Learning to Trust
by SheWhoLovesSherlock
Summary: Having grown accostomed to the city of Ba Sing Se, Lin, the refugee from the southern water tribe, is reunited with her two best friends. But is she being tricked by a taitor? After all, love is hard when you're young. T because I'm paranoid.


**A/N Heyyyy. Guess what. No guess. OK I'll tell you. IT'S NEW PROJECT TIME! EEEEEEEKKK! Yep, I know, I'm starting something new and I don't even have time for my other atories. I'd say I'm sorry, but hey. I really love this. Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar the Last Airbender, but believe me I want to XD**

_The sky was a relentless storm of ashen snow. Panicked voices called for loved ones, for saviors. Some just screamed to scream. Where was Mom? Where was Mao? And Katara and Sokka, were they alright? The big soldiers in big sharp uniforms were pushing everyone, throwing people around like Sokka used to throw my rag dolls. I was scared, so scared, so I ran as fast as I could. I didn't plan on going anywhere. Maybe I'd find Mao. She would protect me. But I just wanted to be away, away from the smoke and the hurt. Blinded by tears that fell unwillingly and a tangled mess of hair black as night, I began to call for my sister and my mother. _

"_Mao! MAO! Where are you? Mom? Mommy?" I couldn't find them anywhere until-there. There she was. Mao. Fighting off two big Fire Nation soldiers and….and there was Mom! Helping Mao….no, fighting the scary men, but trying to get Mao away. But they were so scared, and the men were so big…so I ran to help. And I was in the middle. The sky lit up with flames and I was so close. So close. And they grabbed my wrist. I wanted to shout. To scream. Bite his armored hand. But they had Mommy and Mao and they burned and they burned and they burned. And it was all so quiet. Someone took away the sound. The silence paralyzed me. And I could not move. I could not move._

"Lin! LIN! Wake up, Lin, you have a lesson,"

My eyes flash open. I lay on my soft cot, in the room Mao and I shared. It was just a dream, I think. _It was just a dream._ Or, at the very least, it was partially a dream. Mao is alive. Mom is not. Fact. It had been years since the attack on my village in the South Pole. How old was I then? Seven? Eight? Yeah, eight's more like it. At 15 I had hoped I'd stop having nightmares. I had hoped that running away with my older sister would blur the memories. I had hoped that living in Ba Sing Se would have erased them entirely. And it did. Until I fell asleep. Then I was at the mercy of my sub-conscious. Oh well. Can't get everything you hope for.

"Lin! Come on, I have a student coming in 15 minutes, you have to be at Madame Chen's in half an hour, the house is a wreck and-"

"MAO!" She stopped talking abruptly, as though she was startled she'd been talking at all. "I'm up now, ok? See? I'll leave soon. And check the kitchen, I cleaned it last night, if you don't have time just bring Fi in there," I smile reassuringly at her and feel my grin grow broader at her sigh of relief.

"Oh Lin, thank you. What would I do without you? Don't answer that, just get dressed and brush that hair, it's a mess," she comments briskly, before gathering her papers and sweeping off into the kitchen. Shaking my head to clear out the grogginess (and also at the ridiculousness of my stressed sister), I do as I'm told and comb out my rat's nest hair. Once I somewhat tame the lions mane, I considered my activities for the day. Madame Chen, my flutinette teacher, was an earful no matter what the occasion, so I could understand Mao's tense attitude. Still, half an hour's plenty of time to get ready and walk to her apartment.

"And Lin?" Great. I thought she was done. "Pick up some fish from the market, will you? I had a double-time session yesterday, so we can afford it today."

"Sure, no problem, see you later," I call, before opening the door, the nearest piece of fruit I could find in my hand.

"Wait! But, you have time!"

"I need some practice, better if I'm there early," Which was true. Kind of. I also know that the longer I stayed there, the more panicked Mao would get, and the more irritated I would become. Which would result in a short confrontation, making me late for my lesson. Besides, I needed some air. Swinging my arms slightly, one hand with the fruit, the other with my flutinette, I whistled a tune while walking to Madame Chen's. I need to listen a tune, since the silence of the morning is suffocating. I hate silence. I would rather do anything then have to be surrounded by silence, unlike Mao who craves it.

Mao never gets and time to relax in the quiet, because she's always working, always trying to make ends meet. You see, with Mao and I, food and money were a day-to-day thing. Some days we could afford fresh food, other days we ate leftovers, which was why we didn't eat too much at meals. We never knew when the next one would come from. This was due to the fact that Mao insisted we move in somewhere better than the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se as soon as we could, and that I get a fair education in all subjects, including music. Mao was a private tutor, so I received my basic four subjects from her, and a bit more. Her intelligence exceeded most, and made her a well-respected teacher. She taught rich kids, poor kids, whoever would pay her for the allotted time. Sometimes, if she had a student who's family was like ours and never knew if they'd have enough money, she'd give a free lesson or one half-price. To make up for this, on the weekends, Mao worked at a factory with a "very special" job that only she can do because of her water bending. I've never asked about it, and she never tells, but I don't think she likes the way the factory treats the lower-class workers. But money is money.

Our extra cash goes into my lessons more than food or pretty furniture, but it's what Mao wants. She is my guardian and provider, so I respect her choices. And like I said, she's intelligent. She's my sister. Crazy as she is, I love her and want her to be happy, and she's happy knowing I'm being educated. Lost in thought, on my sister and our small existence (as I usually am) I don't realize where I've walked or how long I've been walking. But, before I know it I've arrived at Madame Chen's apartment. Gingerly, I knock on her ornately designed wood door, and attempt not to cringe at her horse-like features.

"Lin. Good. You are here. Finally."

"Madame Chen, I'm almost ten minutes early-"

"Enough chit-chat, get out your instrument, I shall prepare your etudes," Madame Chen screeches in her squeaky mouse voice. Rumor has it she once was a beautiful singer, and lost her voice to some severe type of bronchitis, then switched to flutinette immediately after. I think she's just a bitter old woman who likes to torture kids with her eerily scratchy voice.

"LIN! Etudes! Now. BEGIN!" This is going to be a long lesson.

After Madame Chen's, where I suffered a lesson on pain and grief in the form of a scary-looking woman, I headed to the market. Old Chenny gave me a long list of reasons why practicing etudes are important, playing in tune is necessary, to do this I must PRACTICE MY ETUDES, and blah, blah, blah. She says it all relates, as does all music. I say it's just a vicious cycle. Not that I dislike music. I love it, actually, but I'm more of a sing-alone-when-no-one's-around kind of musician. I hate the flutinette. Then again, that could be the fault of Madame Chen.

The market in the Middle Ring of town is organized and quiet, with the occasional friendly quarrel over a bargain. Here is where Mao spends her rare free time, reading a book in the outdoor market place, enjoying the sunshine and calm friendliness. I purchase the fine fish and a small woven basket to put it in, since Liere, my dog, ripped the last one up in a feverish nightmare. Feeling out of breath and almost claustrophobic in the peaceful relaxation of the market place, I rush over to my first true home in Ba Sing Se: The Lower Ring. Mao, kind of a clean freak, hates the dirt and the noise and the poor people in the Lower Ring. It's not because she's pompous, she just wants to provide for me and give me the best she can. I think she feels guilty that out mother died. I've told her it isn't her fault, but she doesn't really listen to me. Plus, she also hates the sight of the starving and sick and uneducated that she cannot help. It makes her sad, more than anything else. The Middle Ring lacks all of those things. But I love it here, here in the Lower Ring. It sounds sick after all that nonsense about the condition of the people who live here, but I love the noise and the craziness. The heated almost-brawl arguments. No one will really fight, because no one wants to be arrested in Ba Sing Se, but everything's so hectic the officials stopped caring. They know how this place works. If there is some sort of problem, it ends right then and there. No questions asked. Navigating my way through the many stalls and the people calling for a better deal, I find my favorite merchant, who makes soup out of anything.

"Well, if it isn't Little Miss Linny-Lin!" booms the small man, still treating me like the little girl I once was, when I first came here.

"Hello Mr. Wei, business going well?"

"Fine, fine as usual," he grins lopsidedly, then adds in a conspiring whisper, "as long as I can trust that my friend from the Upper Ring won't let anyone know about my secret ingredients,"

"I'm only from the Middle Ring, Mr. Wei, and don't worry," I say as I quietly slip him the three rat-roaches Liere and I caught, "your secret's safe with me," He nods appreciatively then casually hands me the money he owes me for the vermin-rodents. "After all, you are my best customer!" Grinning widely (as per usual), he surprises me with his next statement:

"So, Little Lin, have you seen the new boys over at old Pao's place?"

"Pao hired new employees? I thought it was family-run only? I would have applied for a job there a long time ago had I known," Pao Family Tea House is my second-favorite place to go in the Lower Ring. Funnily enough, it is one of the more serene places here in the "poor" district.

"Had you visited the place more often, he would have told you. He's been asking everyone that comes in if they need a job, if they want a job, job, job, job, job, job." Wei says teasingly, accusingly.

"I just wish-well-the man can't brew tea!" We share a laugh at that, because, well, it's true. Whenever I visit Pao's, I buy one cup of tea and sip it politely, but mainly chat with the kind store owner and people-watch. Pao's tea is pretty much pathetic. Lately, my sister prefers I spend my time in the Middle Ring anyway, so I can't really waste away hours there.

"Well, Lin, he's got an old fella and a young man there with smocks and tea trays. A lot of the girls seem to be interested in that tea, eh?" He nudges me a bit, so I turn around and observe a huddle of teenage girls watching through the window, giggling. Confused, I move to get a closer look and immediately understand. Inside, stands a brooding young man with dark tangled hair. His skin pale, his golden almond-shaped eyes, the way he carefully and inconspicuously surveys his surroundings. I recognize it immediately. He's a hunter. As a hunter, it's an extremely familiar move. There is something instantly intriguing about him, the kind of rugged good looks only a select few could accomplish. I suddenly feel particularly ugly with my messy (even though thoroughly brushed), plain, dark hair and just as equally boring brown eyes. My tanned skin feels beaten and used, just like the rest of me. He seems mysteriously but alluringly dangerous, unlike his grinning, ancient, white-haired, co-worker. The gaggle of girls, all with "designer" robes and fashionable locks, whisper things about him, and I know they could impress the boy easily. This cackling band of hens, however, lack something I don't. Courage, and the title of "regular customer" at Pao's. Well, courage could also be called big-headed stupidity, but either way I was going into that tea shop. So, calling thanks to Mr. Wei across the street, I marched right into Pao's Family Tea House, much to the chagrin of the other girls. Of course, I did it partially just to piss them off, but I really do want to meet this kid. The money from Wei is mine, making up for the allowance I don't get. Mao's rule, not mine. So I can spend it however I like. And I like it here.

"Ooh!" Pao said excitedly as I sat down at the closest booth.. "Your first customer!" Pushing the young man towards me slightly, I'm suddenly being served by the epiphany of gorgeousness.

"Welcome to Pao's Family Tea House, home of the family tea. Can I take your order?"

Smiling as charmingly as I could, I realize that maybe old Pao's little business wasn't so bad after all.

**A/N Sorry for excessive details and the crummy transitions, I tried to fix them. This is just the introduction chapter, so I'm not that worried about it. Don't worry, I plan for it to get better. Harry Potter, Hunger Games, and ATLA forever!**

**Quote of the Day**

**Me: Inanimate objects must be hate me. The moment I start shouting like a nut to "JUST WORK YOU STUPID -insert object here-" they do what I tell them to. =P**


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